


Adaptation

by So_Caffeinated (so_caffeinated)



Series: Crazyness in Crazy Town (cross-fandom prompts) [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter RPG, Revolution (TV)
Genre: Apocalypse, Crossover, Gen, magic is power, meme challenge, prompt: AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:44:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/so_caffeinated/pseuds/So_Caffeinated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Challenge Meme<br/>Prompt: AU<br/>Characters: Clio Harper (Original Character from Harry Potter RPG) and Miles Matheson (Revolution)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Adaptation

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge Meme  
> Prompt: AU  
> Characters: Clio Harper (Original Character from Harry Potter RPG) and Miles Matheson (Revolution)

 

When the power went out, when scourgify and accio and expecto patronum stopped working, it was like learning to walk again. She felt like an infant, fumbling to figure out the basics of how to live, how to be without magic in her blood and at the tip of her wand. Everything was harder and the skills she’d spent a lifetime accumulating were suddenly meaningless. She didn’t need to know the magical properties of gems or what runes enhanced what charms. She needed to know how to can fruit by hand and start a fire from twigs.  
  
These were not things taught at Hogwarts.  
  
It’s been years since then. She’s coped, like everyone who has survived. She’s laid low, because she’s smart, and made herself useful, because even if this is a new and awful world, she knows people and she knows making herself indispensable is as key to survival as canning fruit and starting fires. Things are always broken these days and, if they’re metal, she can fix them. Sentimental or practical, people bring her things - parents’ wedding rings or broken wire or damaged swords - and she fixes them in trade. It is dirty and it is hard and she longs for the days spent with a loupe in her hand.  
  
A knock on her door pulls her from her work, but the man on her stoop is someone she doesn’t know and he has company, so she doesn’t open the door fully.  
  
“Clio Harper?” the man asks.  
  
“Who are you?” she responds, not acknowledging or denying anything.  
  
“We need a jeweler,” he says, not answering her query.  
  
She’s sure her look is one of disbelief because no one has needed a jeweler since the lights went out. They need swords and they need mended pots and soldered fencing but they don’t need jewelers. Not anymore.  
  
“You used to be pretty good with runes, if I’m not mistaken,” an older blonde woman says, a twitch of a smile flashing across her face.  
  
“Runes are useless,” Clio responds.  
  
“Not... _entirely_ ,” the man replies, holding out a necklace in his palm.  
  
It’s shiny and brilliant with etchings she knew once, long ago, symbols of power and energy and durability. But she tells them none of this, instead eyeing the pendant as it starts to glow.  
  
“Lumos,” the man says in a near whisper.  
  
A ball of light like she never thought she’d see again materializes above the pendant and Clio’s heart catches in her throat as her breath hitches.  
  
“How did you...” she starts.  
  
“It’s the necklace. And we need to know how it works so we can stop Monroe’s militia from taking over everything,” says the younger girl, so young and so eager, optimism shining through her pleading eyes.  
  
“Like I said,” the man smirks, drawing Clio’s attention back to him. “We need a jeweler.”

 


End file.
